


Rivalry of the Century

by kiwigirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 2016 Summer Olympics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Rivalry, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Friendship, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Rivalry, one relationship gets off to a better start than the other, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwigirl/pseuds/kiwigirl
Summary: Jane Foster is assisting her photographer friend Darcy Lewis at the 2016 Rio Olympics. After one public training session, Darcy hits it off with boxer Steve Rogers, while Jane has a slightly rockier time meeting Steve's childhood friend and current rival James 'Bucky' Barnes.All's fair in love and war and this Olympics has a little of both.





	Rivalry of the Century

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Artemis_Day](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/gifts).



> Inspired by [this](http://assentially.tumblr.com/post/162064611076) Tumblr post

“Jane, hurry up!”

Jane pushed a sticky tendril of hair out of her face and blew out a breath. “Why are we running? Didn't you say the training goes all afternoon?”

“Yeah, but I heard the best seats go first. I wanna get a good view,” Darcy said, waggling her eyebrows. “Besides, they have fans running at the front. Unless you want to sit in the sun without them?”

Jane scowled at her friend and picked up the pace.

They ended up seated beneath the fans with a passable view, though not at the front - those were reserved for journalists from the big six companies. As the photographer for a midtier news website and her part-time assistant, they had been lucky to get accommodation in the Olympic Village.

“Pass me the long range lens,” Darcy instructed her, once they were seated. “And- oh look, here they come!”

From their outfits, they looked like the American team, the stars and stripes emblazoned across chests and equipment bags. She recognised a few of them but would be hard pressed to name any.

As Darcy snapped away, Jane amused herself by using to guess what sport each would compete in. That group of girls would be the gymnasts, small and lithe. Giant thighs clued her in that one guy was a weightlifter, and one woman's impressive biceps pointed to her throwing something, like the shotput or javelin.

A nudge to her side interrupted her train of thought. “Look, that one's just your type!”

She peered in the direction Darcy gestured and shrugged. “No thanks. I've tried tall, blond, and studly. It didn't work out.”

Darcy absent-mindedly patted her shoulder in sympathy, though her eyes were fixed on the athlete's pecs, displayed to perfection in a shirt that was some three sizes too small. He was muscled all over, but lean, and Jane could only guess at his event. Athletics, perhaps. She had to admit he was impressive, but she wasn't in the mood for a fling. She'd heard the stories about what went on in the Olympic village, of course, but random hookups weren't her thing. It seemed relationships weren't her thing either, but she stuffed that hurt down before it could ruin Darcy's mood.

“Look at those shoulders,” Darcy breathed. “I've got to get a private interview with him.”

“Darce, you're a photographer, not a journalist.”

“Po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes.”

Sure enough, when the training session wound down and the handlers herded the athletes to the waiting media, Darcy jumped to her feet and made a beeline for the mingling area. Jane gathered the bits and pieces of photography paraphernalia left behind; it made a nice change from Darcy tidying up when Jane got too deep into research for her Master's degree.

“Steve, this is my best friend and assistant, Jane. She's brilliant. Jane, this future gold medallist is Steve Rogers and he's from New York. He’s a boxer.”

Steve ducked his head, a slight blush splashing across his cheeks. “Pleased to meetcha, and, uh, I wouldn't say - I mean, there's a lot of good guys here.”

Darcy placed one hand on his chest, about level with her face. “I get you're trying to be nice, dude, but you can't say things like that here. The competition will eat you alive.”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “They should start engraving my name already, how's that?”

Darcy pursed her lips, fingernails tapping out a beat as she thought. “Not bad. On the cocky side, but it's a good start.” Looking at her hand, she suddenly realised where it was and snatched it back, heat flooding her cheeks. “I-”

She was saved from further embarrassment by a hearty voice from across the grounds. “Rogers! Ready to lose?”

Steve looked over, a grin splitting his face as he seemed to recognise the man in the golden-brown tracksuit. “Bucky!”

The man jogged over, clasping Steve in a handshake that turned into a back-slapping hug as Darcy snapped a photo. The click of the shutter caught his attention and he turned to look at them. “Who’re the ladies?”

“Buck, this is Darcy and Jane.”

“We’re photographers,” Darcy added helpfully, waving her camera as proof. “We didn’t catch your name?”

“I didn’t throw it, and it’s James Barnes. Most people call me Bucky.”

“You sound like you’re from New York,” Jane noted.

“Yeah, grew up in Brooklyn with this guy here, back when he was still a shrimp.”

“If you’re from Brooklyn, why are you competing for-” She looked him over, trying to spot a flag or some other national insignia and failing.

“-Romania?” He grinned, flexing a little as her gaze snagged on his arms.

“Yeah. Could you not get into the-” Too late, she realised how that sounded, and stuttered to a halt.

Bucky’s face shut down, the grin sliding off his face. “I’m plenty good enough. I've won several world titles already, same as Stevie here. My family moved back when I was 16.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Jane bit her lip as Darcy sent a sympathetic look her way.

“Your Ma always hoped you’d get into gymnastics,” Steve joked, trying to cover over the tension. "I think she was trying to save your pretty face."

“What, and miss the opportunity to pound your ugly mug into pulp? You should be so lucky.”

“You’re a boxer as well?” Darcy asked. “In the same weight class, both of you?”

“Light middleweights, that’s us. We-”

He was interrupted by a small man in a tracksuit of the same golden-brown appearing at his elbow, who fired a stream of what Jane assumed was Romanian at him. Bucky grimaced as the man gestured under his nose once more before stalking off. “I have been instructed to stop fraternising with the enemy and start training. As if that’s a good idea in this heat.” He flashed them another grin, this one somehow falser than the last. “Ladies. If you’re ever around the Romanian compound in the Olympic Village, feel free to drop by.”

“Somehow, I don’t think he meant me,” Jane muttered, as he jogged away.  _It was quite a nice view_ , noted the part of the mind that hadn't caught up that she was in no mood to enjoy it.

Darcy didn’t notice. She was too busy putting Steve’s number into her phone.

"I should head out as well, I think we have a team briefing. Ladies, a pleasure to meet you." He flashed a genuine smile at them that had Darcy scrambling for her camera and held it until she gave him a thumbs up.

"I knew this was a good idea," Darcy said happily, as he walked off. "Aren't you glad you took a break from your research for this?"

Jane wasn't so sure.


End file.
